It's all
lemmypie's fault. She was obsessing about Dean being tied up, and why, like anyone needs a reason.
So, here's four times Dean got tied up, and one time that other guy did. Totally freakishly unbeta'd, so I might be drooling.
(
Four plus one )
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What is it that is appealing about a piece of cold metal? WHY?
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If the baby sleeps tomorrow, I'll tie Dean up, too.
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Also, Jared is evil. And the Black Dogs were incredibly amusing all of their own. (TONGUE? Yeouch!)
Now, see, I was gonna write YOU something, and you wind up writing something that brings the joyfulest of happy smiles to MY face instead.
Hmm. Actually, this appears to be a winning proposition on my end. I should not even mention it. Forget I said anything. LA LA! ::mad applause:: You ROCK, of course. ::glee!::
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Now I am just lounging on the settee with the silver bonbon dish again, awaiting your present. *chews nougat indolently*
This was done in under an hour, honestly. But your opinion: I have the first chapter ready to post of the Next Large Fic. Should I wait till after Christmas? Or post now? Thots?
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As long as you feel strong about the new story (insert wild frenzied shrieking just about here), I say post away! TOO close to Xmas and people may be out of pocket -- right now most are still at home, accessible. You know?
My silly-ass crack-fic has paralyzed my brain at the moment. Throw me a prompt? Or a list of fond preferences? Things maybe even *I* can't angstify?
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Let's see. Prompt. Hmm. Well, I hear there is a very good PAINTBALL place on the way from Van to the Tsawwassen Ferry terminal if you're going over to the Island (it's an RPS thingie you've got on the go, eh?). Just a big-ass clump of trees in the middle of delta land, next to the reservation. I pass by it and think, "Man, there are a lot of lunatics running amok in them woods, armed with nothing but air-compressed paint." And then I get really kinda...well, not to put too fine a point on it, HOT. I think our boys would have fun.
Or..or..even one tied up Dean. Make sure you tell Lemmypie. And he could be barfing if you like. See? Or playing paintball and barfing. Bring on the body fluids!
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At this point, I laughed until I damn near woke the hungry guinea pig-loud toddler currently asleep (with periodic flailing and mother bruising) next to me.
Well done!
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